


close enough to feel

by interstellarbeams



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Boundaries, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hangover, Kinda, Max is the best friend a girl could have, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Unrequited Love, Zoey pov, post 1x08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23400052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: Zoey wakes up with a hangover after a night of overindulgence and Max takes care of her.
Relationships: Zoey Clarke & Max Richman, Zoey Clarke/Max Richman
Comments: 22
Kudos: 113





	close enough to feel

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Lizzie for looking this over for me! Unbeta’d, any mistakes are mine.
> 
> Don’t you guys just love these two? Aren’t they adorable? I’m in love with them and their possible/future romantic relationship. 🥰
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! 💕

The honk of a car horn woke Zoey from a deep sleep and for a moment she didn’t remember how she had ended up slumped sideways on her bed wearing yesterday’s work pants and blouse. Then she remembered — she had drunk too much the night before, expunging her fears of the near future in liquid oblivion and passed out before she had the chance to change into her pjs.

“Ugh.” She groaned as she picked a strand of hair away from her cheek sticky with drool. 

She pressed a hand to her head, the burden of it feeling like a bowling ball instead of the usual weight resting on her neck. Glancing around the room, she flinched at the brightness of the sunshine glowing through her curtains and wondered why the morning couldn’t have been wet and dreary, the perfect accompaniment to her mood. 

“Max?” She called, expecting to hear her best friend moving around her apartment. He had apparently been the one to drag her home the night before if his backpack leaning against her bedside table was any indication. Hearing nothing except the rush of traffic from the street, she carefully placed her feet on the floor and slowly made her way to the bathroom.

She ignored the sight of her reflection in the mirror as she splashed her face with cold water. She pressed the hand towel into her face harshly, the pain behind her eyes subsiding at the pressure she placed on her eyelids but returning as she hung the towel neatly on its rack and switched off the light.

Her couch thankfully faced away from the windows of her apartment building and she sighed with relief as she slouched down on the welcoming squishiness. She closed her eyes, pulling a pillow toward her to clasp tightly to her chest as she tried to keep the depressing thoughts of her dad’s sickness and his imminent death from encroaching. 

She gritted her teeth at the image that kept returning to her mind, the rictus of his face that used to so easily smile at his youngest child filling her thoughts and she huffed and plopped the pillow over her face. She knew that inactivity would leave her mind too much room to process the terrible memories that were haunting her but the pounding of her head kept any inclination she had to be productive at the bottom of her to-do list.

Turning over she reached for the remote on the coffee table, wondering where Max had disappeared to without the bag that he took everywhere. A thump from next door and a loud curse filled the empty space right before the sudden blurt of the high volume on the tv ricocheted in her head and she hit the mute button as fast as humanly possible for a woman with an excruciating hangover. 

“Not your best idea, Zoey.” She mumbled to herself as she watched the movement of the figures on the screen, lost in a daze. 

The sound of the key in the lock brought her head up and she blew out a sigh of relief at the sight of Max letting himself in. She opened her mouth to question his use of her key, which only she and her mother had copies of, when he turned around.

“Oh, hey! The sleepyhead is finally up. I uh— got the key out of your purse last night when you were drunk so… yeah, you couldn’t have gotten inside last night without it so I figured I might as well hold onto it until you were back to your usual self.”

Zoey rolled her eyes but dropped the subject as she stood up, a soft groan escaping her as she followed him into her small kitchen and came to stand beside him at the island.

“Where have you been?” She asked, giving the various bags he held a once over but the pounding of her headache had her scurrying back toward the couch where laying down seemed to be her only refuge.

“I know you had a little bit to drink last night so I went and got some of your favorites. Non-fat latte, for starters,” He said, placing the still warm cup in her hands, the bright yellow logo of the Golden Gate Grind catching her eye.

“Really?” She asked, the lilt to her voice surprisingly chipper, for she felt like last week’s Chinese takeout warmed over. “You didn’t have to go to Autumn’s coffeeshop, you know? I know things are still awkward between you. Starbucks would have been fine.”

“I know, but I figured that this was your favorite and no other magic bean brew would do.” He shrugged, nonchalantly, the crisp blue of his work button-down making her feel like a slob by comparison.

“You’re still wearing that…” He asked, settling on the arm of her couch and causing her to crane her neck to catch a glimpse of his face.

“What? I just got up. What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I just… you had a little accident last night.” He gestured towards the front of her blouse, an embarrassingly frank look crossing his face.

She glanced down and groaned, the disgusting vomit stain on her top causing an immediate blush to flood her cheeks and a heat to bloom across the back of her neck. 

She jumped up and fled to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Embarrassment flooded her system and she pressed her back against the door. After a few minutes of lecturing herself on her lack of self control and recent weakness for shots — _thanks a lot, Joan_ — she lifted her head and let her head thump back against the door with an audible thunk, the additional pain, her punishment for drowning her emotional pain in alcohol the night before.

“Why did you let me sleep in vomit covered clothes, Max? I’m your best friend.” She yelled through the door. “I thought you loved me.” She mumbled to herself as she started to unbutton her shirt.

She heard the sound of his footsteps as he neared her door and she braced herself against the door frame, cursing the fact that Mo hadn’t installed locks on the bedrooms in the apartment complex where he was super.

“I’m sorry. I just—“ His voice was muffled by the door but she could hear the soft concern that rested there, “I knew that you wouldn’t want me to change your clothes. I tried to wipe it off with a damp cloth but you kept giggling and trying to pull me down on top of you… so I uh— I figured I would let you deal with it. I knew you would be embarrassed but I didn’t want to offer you uh— any more temptation, per se. Morning after regrets isn’t really your style or mine.” 

“Shit.” Zoey swore softly. The thought of changing her clothes with him just on the other side of the flimsy barrier of her bedroom door, now causing an altogether different heat to flood through her.

 _I can’t believe I tried to have sex with Max!_ She thought, especially after telling him I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. Biting her lip she listened for the sound of his retreat so that she could change her clothes in relative safety, without fear that she would swing the door open and throw herself at him again without the excuse of over imbibing to cushion her lapse in judgement.

She finally convinced herself that she wouldn’t give into temptation and the coast was clear, the volume of the tv having increased and the sound of the blender buzzing in the kitchen loud in the otherwise quiet building. She quickly undressed, threw on one of her many NASA tees and pulled on a pair of jeans that didn’t look too horribly wrinkled. After briefly checking her reflection and hoping her breath wasn’t too horrible she left the sanctuary of her bedroom and sat down on the couch to nurse her cup of coffee. 

The sounds of Max puttering around in the kitchen reminded her of her college years, the last time she has shared her space with anyone, but this felt much more comfortable. Despite the unrequited feelings that hung over the both of them like the thick San Francisco fog, she felt more herself when she was around Max than with anyone else. His presence in her apartment felt natural and she relaxed even more as the rush of the running water in the sink and the opening and closing of the cabinet drawers became a background symphony that lulled her back to sleep. 

————

“Hey, Zoey? Time to wake up.” The touch of Max’s hand on her shoulder roused her more than his voice drifting over her like a warm blanket on a cold day.

She stretched, pushing herself into a sitting position when she realized she had been hogging the only seating that existed in her apartment besides the two stools in the kitchen and Max probably would like to sit down.

“What are you still doing here? I thought you had to go in to work.” Zoey vaguely remembered Max’s comment from the night before when he had been trying to convince her to leave the crush of Friday night at the club and head home while she was still able to walk. 

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “I told Joan that I had a family emergency. She got kinda sarcastic over the phone but I wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Tears flooded Zoey’s eyes suddenly and she looked away quickly. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have been fine.”

“I mean, yeah, you would have been fine, but one lime in the fridge and a black banana in the fruit basket does not seem like the right way to go about recovering from a hangover.” Max’s grin slowly took over his face as she glared at him.

“I’m not the best cook, okay? I’m sure you know that. Takeout menus are a godsend and I use them frequently. This is the 21st century and I’m a coder, I think I can work a phone on my own.” She sniffed, offended but touched by his kindness and the undivided attention that he so often gave her. 

“I know you can. But I’m your best friend. I couldn’t leave you hanging.” The warmth in his brown eyes deepened and she knew that he wasn’t thinking platonic thoughts about her but she knew he would keep his hands to himself until she decided when they should move forward with their relationship. He didn’t want to push her but she still felt flattered, if a little flustered, by the desire in his gaze. 

“Oh, here.” Max cleared his throat, offering her a glass of ice water and a bottle of ibuprofen, “This will help that headache.”

“Thanks.”

“I brought you some szechuan chicken and a side of vegetables if you’re feeling up to eating anytime soon.” 

“Ooh, my favorite!” She immediately spouted, but the nauseous roll of her stomach warned her that that might not be a good idea just yet. 

The whine of a police siren split the afternoon air, interrupting their conversation while a cacophony of dog howls accompanied the loud wailing of a fire truck. Zoey smiled over at Max, his presence making her feel better despite the continued ache of her head and the pain that squeezed at her heart at every thought of her father and the grief that was soon to visit her family. She knew that Max would understand if she suddenly started to vent her emotions but she didn’t want to risk their relationship by falling into his arms as she sobbed, so she held on tight to her composure.

“So… what do you have planned for this impromptu Saturday with your bestie?” She twisted the hem of her shirt around her fingers as she breathed in the woodsy scent of his cologne and tried not to think about the warmth of his leg as it brushed up against hers.

“Well, how about a movie marathon? I know we suspended movie nights but it’s daytime right now so I think we can break the rules just once, right?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively but she couldn’t take him seriously and burst out into laughter.

“What?” He laughed, as he reached for the remote, the happy smile that stretched his lips as bright as the spring sunshine that gilded the world outside.

“You’re such a weirdo.” She shook her head, letting out a breathless laugh. 

“Okay. So we got the one with the figure skating, the one with the bakery owner about to lose her business or the classic musical, _Footloose_.” Max immediately clicked the 80s film without even waiting for her reply and she reached out to pinch him.

“Ow!” He laughed as he tried to scrunch against the edge of the couch to get away from her punishing fingers.

“Don’t you think I have enough singing in my life to last a lifetime?”

“No, actually _Footloose_ is more about the dancing and I think you could take some pointers from _the_ Kevin Bacon.”

“Please. He probably didn’t even do the dance scenes. I swear he had to have a double for all those gymnastics moves.”

“Oh ho! Wanna bet?” Max laughed as she lunged for him again and he hopped up from the couch, holding the remote out in front of him like a weapon, as he put the piece of furniture between them.

“I’m not quite without the use of my legs, just because my head feels like it weighs a few tons, ya know?”

“Oh, I know. I just figured you would be too lazy to get up to chase me.” He teased, his body tensing when she moved to place both feet on the ground as if preparing to jump up and chase him.

She gasped, in open mouthed shock, at his blunt comment but she didn’t take offense. His teasing was as familiar to her as her own reflection but as soon as she saw him relax his prepared stance she lunged over the back of the couch towards him.

“Zoey! Hey!” He laughed as he evaded her and jogged into the kitchen, “I was just kidding!”

Zoey slipped across the kitchen floor on her socks and almost collided with the kitchen island and she tried to follow him. Breathless with laughter she forgot about her headache and all her troubles, enjoying the distracting interlude of chasing Max around her small apartment.

He collapsed on the couch after a few more minutes of feinting right and left around the couch and she sat down next to him, the intro music flowing from the movie turning into the opening dialogue. 

Zoey snuck a look at his face as he focused on the screen, the harshness of her breath calming. Why did I ever think that our friendship could be ruined by deeper feelings? He’s my best friend. We’ve known each other for five years. We know each other’s moods, drink orders and I don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does it because he knows it’s what I need.

She sighed, as she tried to get comfortable but the small couch wasn’t long enough for her to stretch out with Max also occupying the space. She decided she would just endure and crossed her legs underneath her as she leaned back,  
against the cushions. She shifted after a few moments, her attention pulled from the movie as she tried not to disturb Max who was engrossed. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked after she shifted for the third time in as many minutes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look like a human pretzel.”

Zoey scoffed, crossing her arms defensively, but she dropped them with another sigh.

“It’s just— I can’t stretch out. That’s all.”

“Well, here, you can, uh— lay your legs across my lap… _if_ that’s not weird or crossing boundaries or whatever.”

Zoey wavered on saying yes. She really did want to stretch out but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. It was a kind of intimate move, to have her legs laid across his but then she remembered the way she had draped her legs across his just a few days before at work after her embarrassingly romantic performance. He hadn’t seemed to mind then. 

“Okay.” She answered, quietly. Scooting down a little bit and trying to ignore the blush that burned her ears, she rested her head on the couch pillow and slipped her legs over his. 

She jerked when he laid one hand over her knee and he cringed, his hand fluttering atop her leg, as he tried to read her reaction. 

“Sorry, you surprised me that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

 _What a bunch of idiots, constantly apologizing to each other_ , she thought to herself as she turned her attention back to the movie and pushed the feel of his warm palm as far as she could to the back of her mind, which wasn’t far at all.

After awhile she forgot about his hand on her leg as she watched the film but then the protagonists were sharing their first kiss, the romantic song playing in the background prompting her to remember the intimate way they shared the couch and she tried to shift back to her side but he suddenly tightened his grip on her knee and she rested back against the pillow, her gaze locked onto the side of his face. 

Max didn’t look uncomfortable or even aware of his actions but his touch seemed to burn through her pants leg and scorched the skin underneath, erupting a nervous sweat across her upper lip and she brushed at the dampness, praying he didn’t realize just how much his touch affected her.

She felt like her body was on fire, a slow burn that trickled through her veins like melting chocolate and she swallowed hard when his thumb rubbed across the side of her knee. She struggled not to jump from his touch and the ticklish reaction but she must have failed cause he dropped his hand from her leg and lifted his arm to rest it along the back of the couch instead.

She thought he looked disappointed for a moment and she couldn’t bear to see him so dejected, especially over something that she had no control over. She pulled away from him, but instead of squeezing herself against the couch arm she moved closer and tucked herself against his side. Consequences be damned.

He turned his head, a surprised look crossing his face but then he dropped his arm around her shoulders and she smiled softly to herself as he turned his attention back to the TV. It hurt to be this close to him, close enough to feel the beat of his heart under her ear but it was a good hurt. One that distracted her from the other hurts that waited for her outside the door of her apartment, but right now she would forget about those and just be in this moment with her best friend. A man who would always be there for her to lean on, even if they didn’t move their relationship forward she knew that she would always be able to count on him. To find comfort with him, trust that brought her back to the safety she felt when she was a little girl and her father was her hero, and someone who understood her needs and wouldn’t push her for more until she was ready.

Having him so close and having to hold him at an emotional distance hurt, but it was a good feeling, a reminder that she could feel more than friendship for him. That maybe, _one day_ , she would be ready to take the next step with him and she was okay with that.


End file.
